


I Wish I Could Make Everything Okay For You

by fairylightsandrainydays



Series: The Misadventures of Simon and Virgil [1]
Category: Original Work, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Reunions, So i crushed ur heart and then slapped a plaster on it, So much angst, but the plaster isnt working
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairylightsandrainydays/pseuds/fairylightsandrainydays
Summary: Simon and Virgil have an ongoing list of rules that are never, ever, under any circumstances, to be broken.Rule Number One: NO DYING.What happens when someone breaks that rule?
Relationships: Original Female Character(s) & Original Non-Binary Character(s), Original Male Character(s)/Original Non-Binary Character(s)
Series: The Misadventures of Simon and Virgil [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893121





	I Wish I Could Make Everything Okay For You

Simon’s whole life was flashing before their eyes. It wasn’t funny, or fun. Fuck, it hurt. Simon could feel the spear sticking out of their stomach, tangling up their intestines. They heard Virgil’s scream from across the battlefield and closed their eyes. Father, they prayed, let him live. Bless my love, for he deserves to live a full life. Do not curse him to follow me into the pit of his father, until it is his time. The sun shone on their face, making it a bit warmer. Perhaps their father had heard their prayer.

  
They opened their eyes once again to see a boy with short purple hair standing over them, his scythe hanging limply in his hands, helmet clutched under his arm, the scythe bloodied. Virgil was staring down at them, tears pooling in his eyes. “Simon. Si. Are you still here?” Simon made eye contact with Virgil, turning their hand just so, so it was open. Virgil fell to his knees, grasping Simon’s hand. “Gods, Si, that’s a lot of blood.” He fumbled out a cube of ambrosia from his pocket and shoved it into Simon’s mouth, forcing them to swallow it. “Si, your wound - it’s...it’s not healing, Si!” Simon nodded. Virgil glanced around, panicked. “There’s still time, we can get you to the Big House, one of your siblings can treat you, you’ll be okay.” Simon moved their head back and forth, shaking it slightly. Simon was Camp Half-Blood’s best medic, a child of Apollo who could assess their own wounds. They knew when something was beyond even the gods. “I - I killed her, Si, I got her in the throat with my scythe. I killed the bitch who stabbed you.” Simon closed their eyes. That had been Virgil’s promise, when they were still new. You die, I’ll kill everyone who tried to touch you. Virgil shook Si’s chin. “Hey, hey, stay with me, you aren’t allowed to die, remember, it’s against the rules.” Simon smiled. The rules. Silly regulations they made up, staying up in the empty Hades cabin on Virgil’s bed until Simon’s father began to light up the sky in his flaming chariot.

  
The first rule: NO DYING.  
Simon licked their lips. “Virge, you have to take care of yourself. I’ll be alright. Father will make sure I get into Elysium. You will, too. I’ll wait for you, I promise. I love you.” They closed their eyes again and their breathing slowed. Virgil’s eyes widened. “No, no, no. That’s not fair. You can’t go. You can’t leave me alone. No!” Simon didn’t respond. They had already gone beyond the veil. Virgil screamed, letting loose a wave of shadows and death from where he knelt, killing every fucking traitor and monster that tried hurting his goddamn camp. He collapsed next to Simon, his energy gone from the power blast. His eyes slipped shut and he gripped Simon’s now cold hand a little bit tighter.

***********

Virgil awoke in the infirmary, his hand empty and cold. He sat up, blinking sleep out of his eyes. The curtains were open, letting sunlight into the room, and shining right into his face. He smiled. Simon opened them every time he got himself hurt, shaking their head with a “you have to stop being so careless on the lava wall.” He looked around for Simon, but the room was empty. He tried to think back to the last time he saw Simon’s face. Fuck. Virgil was hit by a wave of emotion. He remembered Simon’s gloves had been bloody, they’d been tending to wounded demigods on the battlefield, and then Virgil’s hands had been bloody, why were his hands bloody oh gods he remembered forcing a square of ambrosia into Simon’s mouth, he remembered the wound wouldn’t close, remembered trying to hold it together with inexperienced hands. He remembered the feeling he got when another soul, Simon’s soul, left his world for the realm of his father. He sat back. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Simon was...gone? No, Simon couldn’t be gone. He was dreaming. It was a bad dream, Simon couldn’t be dead, that was against the rules. Simon wasn’t gone, they were going to walk in through those doors carrying an ice pack and a smile, chastising Virgil. So he waited.

And waited.

After about half an hour, the door opened to reveal….

Not Simon.

Their sister.

Persephone James, a daughter of Apollo and Simon’s friend since birth.

Her face was streaked with tears. She was holding an unlit torch and a golden drachma.

Virgil’s eyes widened. No, no, no no. “Perse? What’s going on? Where’s Simon?” Persephone shook her head, coming into the room to sit on Virgil’s bunk. “Virgil. I - I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. They’re - Simon’s - Simon’s gone.” Virgil blinked. Not a dream? Gone? Persephone gingerly offered Virgil the torch. “I thought you might want to light the pyre.” Virgil took it, numbly, swinging his legs out of bed. Persephone reached for his arm, and when he didn’t flinch away from her, she took it, slinging it over her neck to hold him up.  
Simon’s casket was open. Virgil and Persephone walked over to it, to see Simon one last time. There was a crowd gathered round. The battle the day before had been a long and bloody one, and there were many deaths to honour. Too many.

Simon’s eyes were shut, and Virgil knew if he reached over and opened them, there would be no light in them. Simon wouldn’t smile at his appearance, tell him to drink a glass of water, give him a hug. Simon just wouldn’t.

Virgil could feel the tears pouring before he could register what they were. His hand holding the torch was shaking. Persephone reached over and opened Simon’s mouth, putting the drachma under their tongue before shutting it again, ensuring them safe passage across the River Styx.

Two children of Hecate shuffled up to the casket, closing it, before draping a pale blue shroud over it, the colour reminiscent of the pastel blue flower crown Simon always wore.

Leo Valdez quietly walked up next to Virgil and took the torch, lighting it, before going back to stand next to Piper McLean, his best friend.

Virgil watched the fire. It was leaping, warm, almost joyous, and it was going to destroy Simon for good. Persephone reached over and took the torch from Virgil gently, knowing that the boy wouldn’t protest. She touched the jumping flame to a corner of the shroud and grasped Virgil’s arm, pulling him back as the pyre began to burn.

************  
Virgil walked into his father’s throne room, hands shaking. It’d been little over three months since Simon, and Hades had not been accepting Virgil’s Iris-Messages. So Virgil made a connection with an old soul who agreed to let him into the Underworld in exchange for a glass of lemonade. The transaction was made, and now Virgil was stood at Hades’ throne, waiting for Hades to notice him. The god had noticed Virgil’s entry at first, and had shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew this had been coming for a while. When Hades made eye contact with his son, he took in the shadows under Virgil’s eyes, the permanent tear stains. “Virgil. Son. Hello.” Virgil nodded, balling his fists. Hades cleared his throat. “So, what brings you -” Virgil held up a hand and, with a voice that was doing its best to remain steady, said, “I will only ask you this once. Where. Is. Simon?”

Hades shifted once more. “Simon Robin Watson, yes, they, well, they made it into Elysium, you’ll be pleased to hear,” (Virgil did not look pleased to hear it), “And they are living well. They were allowed to remember their old life in exchange for becoming Elysium’s medic. You should know that they wait for you.” Virgil’s hands came up to grasp his upper arms, his head drifting downwards, wanting to disappear into a nonexistent turtle shell. “Can you bring them back? For me? I’m… I’m not Orpheus, I’ll know what to do. Please, I - I miss them more than anything in the world.” Hades’ face fell. “Son, I…. you know I cannot allow it, even for one of my offspring.”

Virgil heard the news and took a literal step back before crumpling to the ground, as though the thought that maybe, there was a fraction of a chance that Simon might be able to be brought back was what was holding him together the past three months.

And now...well, Virgil had been expecting it. His brother, Nico, had tried that before with his sister Bianca. He’d failed. But that’d been over fifteen years ago, and Nico had moved on. Virgil had thought that perhaps Hades had too.

It seemed he was wrong.

Hades stood up uncomfortably, and went to kneel down next to his son, placing a hand on his back. Virgil flinched away. “Fucking don’t.” Hades dropped his hand. “I’m sorry.”  
Virgil suddenly stood. “Well, that was all that I came for. Goodbye, Father.” He strode out of the throne room, leaving Hades standing awkwardly with his hand outstretched toward his son.

*********

Virgil stood before the Judges of the Dead in the Underworld, his head bowed as Jason Grace viewed his life. He’d died on a quest to bring back the moon when he was twenty three, three years after Simon. Jason had replaced Minos, who had been an unfair judge and had tried to lead Virgil’s brother astray eighteen years prior. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t work, and Minos was suffering in Tartarus for it).  
Jason and the other two judges considered Virgil’s life. He’d been a good demigod. A little emo, for sure, but he’d never wanted to hurt anyone with his abilities. His scythe was forged from Stygian iron and enchanted to never harm mortals. The only person he’d ever killed was the woman who’d stabbed Simon, and that was him fulfilling a promise.  
He deserved Elysium.

Jason cleared his throat. “Virgil Aaron Rose, you behaved valiantly in your life, and given your personal connection to many in our realm, we the Judges have deemed you fit for Elysium.” Virgil looked up, making eye contact with Jason. Really? He thought. First I’m permitted to skip Lethe, and now this? Jason nodded, as if to say Yeah, kid. You earned it.  
A smile split open Virgil’s face. Gods, he was going to see Simon. He was going to hear Simon’s laugh, see their smile, hold them close. The thought was enough for Virgil to want to leap into the air in pure joy. (Side note: He didn’t)

************

Elysium was like one long, winding, cobblestone road framed by homes and shops and pathways leading to fields filled with flowers, and streams that Virgil could hear flowing, and forests that were sure to have clearings where picnics could be held. Virgil traced a path of silence, observing the real wholesomeness of the place. He bumped into people sometimes, muttered sorry, and then realised they weren’t hurt by it. He bumped into more people than he’d thought he would. Elysium was supposed to be incredibly hard to get into, but perhaps that was when Minos was still a judge. Jason Grace had died at the young age of 16, but had already gained wisdom beyond his years. His fairness had led to him being placed as judge in place of Minos.  
Virgil’s ears perked suddenly. There was someone singing nearby him. A familiar tune.

_I see swimming pools and living rooms and aeroplanes,_  
_I see a little house on a hill and children’s names._  
_I see quiet nights poured over ice and…_

The singing faltered and gave way to what sounded like hushed tears. Virgil shook his head. He’d recognise that voice anywhere.  
“Simon!”

Simon’s head snapped up. Virgil? They stood up, looked round, and…

  
There was Virgil Aaron Rose, looking like a rom-com cliche, running full tilt towards Simon. Simon’s Virgil. Simon’s Virgil who knew how to make them smile, Simon’s Virgil who had the cutest face Simon had ever seen, Simon’s Virgil who could draw like the whole world was his to keep, Simon’s Virgil who was one of the kindest people Simon had had the privilege to know, Simon’s Virgil who Simon had missed so, so, much, Simon’s Virgil who was supposed to stay on Earth, Simon’s Virgil who had stayed on Earth for three more years, Simon’s Virgil who was leaping into Simon’s arms and burying his face in Simon’s neck.

  
Simon gasped, a laugh that wanted to be a sob, and spun their boyfriend around in a circle, locking their arms tight around him. “I missed you so, so much.” Virgil pulled back to look Simon in the eyes, and leaned forward and kissed them. Simon kissed back, almost awkwardly, but in their Simon way that they knew Virgil loved. Virgil pulled back again, tears running down his face. “Oh, gods, I missed you, too. So much. So, so, so much.” Simon held Virgil in their embrace for a long time, getting up when Virgil said, “home please?” Simon nodded. “Home.” They didn’t tell Virgil that the moment Virgil’d flung his arms around them, they’d been well and truly home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this and now have too many feels, I apologize. However, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> <3


End file.
